


Potential

by DragonSorceress



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 04:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11223681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonSorceress/pseuds/DragonSorceress





	Potential

Jinx fired her rocket at a random building as she walked down the abandoned street, watching as it collapsed. No screams, she noted with some disappointment, though not surprise. Her rampage had been going for some time. “Looks like there's not much more fun to be had here, huh, Fishbones?”  
“So you're the one who's been taking the attention away from my work.” The voice came from behind her, bringing a small smile to her face. “Looks like someone wants to play,” she murmured. She turned to see a strangely dressed man in a mask on one of the few mostly-intact roofs. Although she had been ready to shoot, curiosity stopped her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Fancy-Mask.”  
“My artistic endeavors in this town are being overshadowed by this…” he gestured at the destruction around them, “Amateurish production.”  
“Amateurish?” she protested, “I’ll have you know that I’ve been blowing things up for _years_.”  
A short, disdainful laugh, “I’m sure you have. Regardless, your composition can best be described as sloppy. If I were to be generous.”  
“Well, _duh_. Explosions aren’t known for being neat. They’re known for _destroying_ things.”  
“And with that destruction, you could be creating art.”  
“How's that even supposed to work?”  
An exasperated sigh, “Think about it this way: the city is your canvas, and destruction the medium by which your masterpiece is brought to life. Every bullet is a brush stroke, every bomb a tool to imbue meaning into this mundane architecture.”  
“I dunno,” Jinx said, unconvinced, “That sounds kinda boring.”  
“And haphazard destruction never feels unfulfilling?”  
Jinx looked at the still smoldering ruins of the building she had blown up only a few minutes ago. She had no counter for that. “Fine, Mr. Fancy Mask,” she said, rolling her eyes, “Why don't you show me what you mean?”  
“I would love to,” he said, carefully making his way down to street level, “And the name is _Jhin_.”  
“Whatever you say.”

As Jhin prepared his small demonstration, it became apparent that it would be much more difficult than he had originally thought to induct her into his particular school of art. It wasn’t because she lacked potential. Even though she had no understanding of any artistic principles, there were a number of aspects that he could appreciate about her. The boldness that any artist this far ahead of their time needed in order to stand against the less farsighted. A chaotic nature that would never permit her to let things grow stale. The ability, the desire even, to thrive in the midst of destruction and turmoil that far too many were terrified of. And the raw energy that exuded from everything she did… No, she had a lot of potential, waiting for someone to show her how to use it. However, she was equally grating. Loud, obnoxious, and thoroughly uncultured, she was not a person he would have chosen to associated with. His options were quite limited, though. He knew that history would remember him as the great artist that he was, but he also knew just how ahead of his time he was. There were few people who could see the beauty in what he did, and too many would dismiss his work outright. If there was a chance that she could understand his work, then he had an obligation to his artform to explore that possibility. Besides, he reminded himself, those were not immutable qualities and it was not unthinkable that they could become more tolerable, given time. For his art, he could be as patient as he needed to be. Perfection, after all, was not something that could be rushed. 

“Ugh. Are you done yet?” Jinx complained. Jhin didn't turn toward her, visualizing what he wanted to do.  
“Art isn't something you can rush.”  
“Yeah, but you're not even doing anything.”  
“I'm planning.”  
“This is so _boring_.”  
“It's essential.”  
Jinx rolled her eyes, pulling out Pow-Pow and taking aim at the wall of a nearby building. The almost incessant fire drew Jhin’s attention back to her. “What are you doing?” he asked with some exasperation.  
“Killing time.”  
Looking at her, he was surprised to see that her shots weren't completely random. She was actually using them to write, a declaration that she had been there. Even more surprising was how well done it was, spelling errors and random capitalization aside. That she could be accurate when she chose did open up some possibilities. “Wait here for a moment,” he said after thinking for a moment, “When I get back, we can get started.”  
“This better not be a waste of my time, Mr. Fancy-Mask,” she said, sing-song. He didn't bother to respond to that. 

Ideas started solidify in Jhin’s mind as he strode down the street. As things were right now, he knew that she wouldn't have the patience for him to make something up to his normal standards, and had resigned himself to that. Even still, he would make this memorable. Entering the building where he had been setting up for his performance that night, he eyed his options. “No. No. Not you,” he said to himself, distantly considering the panicked faces in front of him, “Or you. No.” He continued on as he paced past them. “I suppose you'll do. You're an extra, anyway.” He sighed as he hauled his choice to their feet. He was loathe to alter the plan he had been formulating for days, but there was little choice. The force of destruction that apparently went by the name of “Jinx” had scared away the other residents of the area. It was no matter, he told himself, if it was for the Art. “Oh, don't look so pathetic,” Jhin said as he gathered up what he would need to craft the scene he had in mind, “I'm giving your life _meaning_. You will be the spark that ignites something much greater than anything _you_ could have ever become.”

It did not take long for Jinx to fall into boredom again. Though she was curious about this strange man, she was also impatient. She _could_ be out seeking excitement _right now_ instead of waiting for… something. Torn and frustrated, she flopped down. “What do you think, Fishbones? Should we wait to see what Mr. Fancy-Mask has up his sleeve, or bail?”  
“I think we should leave,” she made the rocket launched say, “I don't like that man, Jinx. He's dangerous.”  
“Ha! That means we’re staying!”  
“Aw, come on. Why do you always have to be like this?”  
“Because unlike you, I _like_ fun.”  
“Books are fun. I think I saw a bookstore that wasn’t too on fire a few blocks back.”  
“Fine.”  
“Really?’  
“Yeah. Right after the 12th of Never!” Jinx laughed as she made Fishbones look disappointed.  
“Could you at least not call him names?” the rocket launcher pleaded, “I don’t think it would be a good idea to make him mad.”  
“Whatever,” Jinx said, rolling her eyes. She put Fishbones away. That had given her an idea to keep herself amused in the meantime.

When Jhin returned to collect Jinx, he couldn’t help but notice how she had been spending her time. While he had been away, she had taken to spray-painting graffiti all over the nearby buildings. It was crude and garish, but was at least somewhat more interesting than before. She didn’t seem to notice him, so he watched her work for a bit. He personally hated interruptions, and although she wasn’t anywhere near his level yet, he felt it was only fair that he extend her that courtesy. Unsurprisingly, it seemed that planning was not one of her strong suits, as halfway through one of her designs she ran out of what was apparently the last of her spray paint. “Welp,” she said, tossing the can vaguely in the direction of a half melted trash bin, “Looks like I'm done with that.” She turned, presumably to start looking for some other way to entertain herself, but stopped when she saw him. She blinked, not expecting him to be there. “Wait. When did you get back?” she asked.  
“Not too long ago,” he said.  
“Oh. Does that mean your thing is ready?”  
“Of course.”  
“Well, what are we waiting for?”  
“You.”  
“Then let's go!”  
Jhin turned and motioned for her to follow.

As the two of them moved towards the scene that Jhin had arranged, Jinx’s anticipation was painfully apparent. Much to Jhin’s annoyance, she was quite literally bouncing circles around him, with an incessant stream of questions and chatter. As they drew close to where Jhin had set up his show, he stopped and turned to face her. “Listen,” he said, fixing her in place with a look, “While I can appreciate your… enthusiasm, some things require precision.”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“In the simplest of terms, it means that for this work, you will need to do exactly what I say, exactly when I say to do it. Understand?”  
“Whatever,” she said, with a groan of annoyance. Jhin was not satisfied with such a noncommittal answer. “I am serious. If you cannot even agree to that much, then we might as well not even bother.”  
“Fine,” Jinx said, rolling her eyes. Jhin stared at her for a moment, but he knew that it would be the best he was going to get from her. “Very well,” he said, disappearing for a moment into the shadows of a bombed-out building. When he reappeared, he was dragging a terrified man. “Now, let’s see how well you perform,” Jhin said, though to whom was unclear, “And do keep in mind that you only have one chance at this.”  
“Ohho, what so we have here?” Jinx asked, excitedly aiming one of her guns at the man.  
“Patience,” Jhin said as he undid the restraints holding his latest victim. Jinx’s only response was an annoyed mumble. When he finished, he pulled the man in. “You had better make this sufficiently interesting,” Jhin said, his voice low, “My... protégée here is even less tolerant of boredom than I am.” He pushed the man away. “Now run,” Jhin said coldly. He did not need to repeat himself, and as the man ran, Jhin put an arm out to stop Jinx from immediately chasing the man. “Not yet,” Jhin said quietly.  
“Come _on_ ,” Jinx complained, shifting impatiently.  
“I marked certain streets,” he continued, as if she hadn't said anything, “Chase him down those. And no bleeding injuries.” He stepped out of her way, motioning that the chase was on.

Smiling and laughing, Jinx chased her prey. Though she was irritated by the restrictions she had been given, the sounds of terror at her ‘near misses’ were exhilarating. As was the look she could sometimes catch in the doomed man’s eyes as he slowly realized that he was being herded towards some new, unknown horror. Not that she would have ever admitted that, least of all to _him_. Nor would she have admitted that this chase felt different, better somehow. Whether it was the anticipation beforehand, or knowing that this was leading up to something more, she wasn't sure. It still didn't make up for the dull wait, part of her thought. Not yet, at least. That aside, it did hold her attention enough that the hand that grabbed her shoulder took her by surprise. “What the-,” Jinx started, before Jhin cut her off with a motion to be quiet. She was uncertain why he was there, but when he gestured for her to follow him, she still did so. It was mostly out of curiosity, an odd desire to see what sights this strange man had to show her.

After moving through what had either been alleys or hallways, they regained sight of their target. The man’s pace had slowed, and he was looking around frantically, trying to find some semblance of safety, or at least catch sight of his pursuers. Jinx moved to chase after him again, but Jhin held her back, leaning in close to her. “When he reaches the lamp post, send that electrical shot of yours at him,” Jhin whispered, “Then, when I give the word, put a bullet just to the left of his heart.” As Jinx impatiently took aim, Jhin triggered a small explosion that sent the man running again. It took every last ounce of her very small pool of self control to wait the few extra moments, but she managed. Zap. With a practiced speed, she switched to Pow-Pow. The bolt of electricity hit the man, bringing his desperate flight to a halt as Jinx lined up her next shot. Next to her, Jhin brought his own gun up. “Now,” he breathed. Vrit-vrit-vrit. Bang. In unison, two bursts of red appeared as their shots ripped through the man’s chest and time seemed to slow. Another explosion rained white petals down on him as he fell forward. The twin trails of blood streaming from his wounds seemed for a moment to have transformed into wings. He hit the ground hard, sending up a small flutter of bloodstained petals. The crimson liquid pulsed out of his wounds with each quickly weakening heartbeat, forming strange patterns as it ran through the cracks in the pavement.

Jinx’s eyes went wide and she could feel her heart beating quickly as she watched the man die. Caught up in the scene that had just played out, the normally frenetic girl was momentarily still. It was not long, though, before her normal exuberance broke through. “That was awesome!” she laughed, “Let's do it again!” All thought of not wanting to admit that he had been right had been forgotten.  
“And ruin its uniqueness? No. You'll find that none of my performances are ever quite the same.” His focus shifted away from Jinx and to the aftermath of his work. Considering it for a moment, he remembered why he hated working with such limited time to prepare. He knew every flaw with would gnaw at him for _days_ , at least. He shook his head with a dissatisfied sigh, “Fortunately. This could have been so _much_ more.”  
“Really?” Jinx asked, bouncing on her toes in excitement at the idea, “Okay, I have _got_ to see that.”  
Her interruption of his thoughts reminded him why he was here. Underneath his mask, Jhin’s face twisted into a dangerous smile. He had her. “It just so happens I have a performance tonight. You're more than welcome to attend. Provided you don’t mind putting up with some ‘boring’ setup, of course.”  
She paused for a second, weighing the likelihood of being bored with how exciting it might be, “It’ll be worth it, right?”  
Jhin laughed, “My dear, it will make this look like a child’s scribbles.”  
“Then sure!”  
“Good,” he said, sweeping her away from the scene, “It's been so long since I've had someone who can appreciate my work.” They made their way to where Jhin had started to set his stage, possibilities running through their minds.


End file.
